Anastacio looked up at Pringle; measureless contempt was in his eyes.

"Judas Iscariot could have sublet his job to you at half price if
you'd been in the neighborhood. You are the limit, plus! I hope to see
you fry in a New English hell!"

"Oh, that's all right, too," said Pringle unabashed. "I might just
as well have that forty-five hundred as anyone. It wouldn't amount to
much split amongst all you fellows, but it's quite a bundle for
one man. That'll keep the wolf from the well-known door for quite a
while."

"You won't touch a cent of it!" declared the sheriff.

"Won't I though? We'll see about that. I captured him alone, didn't I?
Oh, I reckon I'll finger the money, alrighty!"

"Here, fellows; give him a bait of whisky," said Creagan.

Breslin, kneeling at Foy's side, took the extended flask. They
administered the stimulant cautiously, a sip at a time. Foy's eyes
flickered; his breath came freer.

"He's coming!" said Breslin. "Give him a sip of water now."

"He'll be O.K. in five minutes, far as settin' up goes," said old
Nueces, well pleased; "but he ain't goin' to be any too peart for
quite some time--not for gettin' down off o' this hill. See--he's
battin' his eyes and working his hands around. He sure heard the